A Mysterious Vision.

147

saw the family preparing for prayers. They proceeded to their chamber, swearing, singing, and jesting.

"The pilgrim uttered the pious exhortation to heaven. His improvised prayer was sublime. All the family expressed their admiration and gratitude, and the son obliged the holy man to accept his bed, instead of that which had been prepared for him in the servants' room.

"The inhabitants of the château were all sound asleep, when, about one o'clock in the morning, the grandmother was awakened by the glare of a brilliant light, which dazzled her. She looked around, and, on recovering from her surprise, she beheld, standing at the foot of her bed, the pilgrim, who by signs directed her to rise, dress herself and follow him. The good old lady, feeling herself, as she afterwards declared, urged by a supernatural power, immediately obeyed. At the same moment, and in the same manner, the pilgrim awoke the son of the master of the château, and conducted him to the corridor, where he was met by his grandmother. For a moment, the pilgrim appeared to them to assume a twofold form, but the effect was so instantaneous that they were unable to give any accurate account of it. The stranger, then, without uttering a word, conducted them to the chamber where the officers were reposing. He touched the door lightly with his staff; it flew open; he entered, and the old lady and her grandson followed him. On the tables and chairs were lying rope ladders, poignards, pistols, keys, files, iron bars, and other things commonly used by robbers. The three pretended officers appeared to be in a profound sleep.

"They will sleep till to-morrow," said the pilgrim, thanks to Heaven and to the piety of this excellent family.'

"Having uttered these words, he vanished.. the light fled with him.... the lady and her grandson found them. selves enveloped in darkness, and in their respective apartments, instead of being, as they supposed, in the chamber allotted to their guests. The impression left on their minds was so vivid that they could not imagine it to be the mere effect of a dream. Being unable to fall asleep again, they were the first to rise in the morning. When they met, they related to each other their supposed dream or vision,

148

The Brigands Discovered.

and were mutually struck with the coincidence. The galloping of horses was heard approaching the gate of the château. A party of gendarmerie were in pursuit of three leaders of a formidable troop of brigands. A description of their persons was sent to the young gentleman, and, on perusing it, he observed that it precisely corresponded with that of the three individuals who, on the previous evening, had solicited his father's hospitality. Having stated this circumstance, and mentioned the name which the pretended General assumed, the gendarmes felt assured that they were the men of whom they were in pursuit. Besides, the gendarmes had ascertained that, during the night, the château had been surrounded by a party of robbers, apparently watching for a signal, which was not given.

"The gendarmes proceeded straight to the chamber occupied by the suspicious visitors. They found the door open, though, on the preceding evening, it was known to have been bolted, and the old lady and her grandson, to their great horror, beheld the rope ladder, pistols, and every thing just as it had been pictured in their dream. The three banditti being roused from a lethargic sleep, offered no resistance. They confessed all, and declared themselves unable to account for the heavy sleep which had overpowered them and prevented them from carrying their plan into execution.

"The family, surprised at not seeing the pilgrim, proceeded to his chamber.... He was gone, and no trace of him was ever discovered. On the bed, on which he had evidently not reposed, was found an ivory crucifix of vast size and exquisite workmanship."

"Ah Monseigneur!" we all exclaimed, when the Duke of Otranto had ended this strange story, "it is one of the results of the restoration that old convent chronicles are regaining credit."

"Gentlemen," replied Fouché coolly, "I have had submitted to my perusal, the confession of the three robbers, the evidence of the whole family corroborated by the attestations of the gendarmerie, and of the local and departmental authorities. It is certainly more easy to deny than to believe; but if we are to withhold credit from facts supported on good evidence, it may as well be alleged that

Conversation with Louis XVI.

149

Tarquin drove Publicola from Rome, and that Cæsar killed Brutus in the Capitol."

Observing that the Duke of Otranto was piqued, we made no further show of our incredulity. There are acts of apparent concession which politeness imperatively de

mands.

Prince Cambacérès seeing our dilemma, said,

"People are inclined to regard as mere fiction all that does not appear in accordance with the natural order of things; and yet I wager there is not one of us here present, who cannot relate some extraordinary fact, partaking of the marvellous, which has come within his observation."

"That is not my case, I assure you, Monseigneur," observed I: "I have never yet witnessed any occurrence which all the world would not admit to be possible. Nevertheless, I will vouch on my honour for the veracity of the person from whom I heard a very marvellous story, which with your permission, I will relate.

"In 1807 I was on terms of intimacy with an individual who enjoyed a considerable share of literary reputation in France, and whose fame is not unknown, even in foreign countries. I allude to Louis Sebastian Mercier. He was a very eccentric man, singular in every thing, a hater (for I must be a neologist like himself in attempting to portray his character) he was a hater of Racine, Homer, Boileau, and Newton. His ideas were full of originality, and his conversation was exceedingly entertaining.

"Mercier had been a member of the National Convention, but he had not, like many others, withdrawn, leaving his honour behind him. One day, I was in company with him in the green room of the Comédie Française. There were present, besides myself, M. de Cailhava, an enthusiastic admirer of Molière, and Pellettier-Volmerange, the author of some successful melo-dramas. We were all engaged in animated conversation, and Mercier said:

"Gentlemen, I am the person who can give you the latest news of Louis XVI.'

"You, Mercier," we exclaimed, "were you so fortunate as to obtain permission to see him in the Templer"

"I have had the pain of seeing him face to face, as I now see you; and that since his death.'

150

Conversation with Louis XVI.

"Since the King's death?"

"'Yes.'
"Impossible."

"To you it probably appears so; for you doubt all things, save such as are witnessed by your eyes: but, nevertheless,' pursued he solemnly, 'I saw Louis XVI. revisit this

world after his death.'

"Where? and at what time?" we inquired.

"On the night of the 21st of January, 1794, I was hurrying through the streets to call on a sick friend, when, as I was crossing the boulevard, I beheld an immense multitude of people thronging towards an object which apparently excited curiosity. It was a carriage, surrounded by guards, together with several pieces of artillery and cannoniers with their matches ready lighted. In the carriage there was seated a man, whom I immediately recognized to be Louis XVI. Having approached near to me, the carriage stopped, and the King beckoned me to advance, I did so, and he said to me:

"You did not vote for my death. For that you may be thankful for the sake of your own peace of mind. I was sacrificed; and France will dearly pay for shedding the blood, which I should not regret, had it been spilt for her happiness and glory. Most of my assassins will die on the scaffold, or in exile: all will be victims to soul torturing remorse. The government will pass from the hands of one set of tyrants to those of another, until, at length, my family will re-ascend the throne, and close the abyss of revolutions.'

"Louis XVI., having uttered these words, drew his head within the carriage, which then drove on, leaving me astounded and transfixed to the spot. Gradually, the crowd dispersed, and, having recovered from the stupor into which this incident had thrown me, I proceeded onward to my friend's house."

"Or rather," said I to Mercier, "you awoke."

"I was not asleep,' he replied. The circumstance occurred when I was as perfectly awake as I am at this moment. I swear this on the faith of an honest man, and I never yet swore falsely.'

Vision seen by Napoleon and Josephine.

151

"This story, gentlemen," added I, "I declare on my honour I heard from the lips of Mercier; and I heard it not only once, but several times. On one occasion, I remember it made a particular impression on me. It was when I breakfasted with him at the Ecu de France, Rue d'Enfer, in company with the Abbé d'Allez, two ladies, the Chevalier Cubières, and Count d'Escherny."

"Well," said Prince Cambacérès, "I have heard the Emperor relate a circumstance of a very similar nature, which, he affirmed, occurred within his own observation. It was this:-One night, during the height of summer, the heat was excessive, and Napoleon and Josephine were seated in conversation at an open window of the Tuileries. It was late-near midnight. Suddenly, they were startled by the appearance of a red light which illumined the horizon. The imperial couple beheld in the reflection of this red light, a multitude of persons assembled in the parterres of the gardens. They were seized with consternation, and were about to give an alarm; but the extraordinary silence of the multitude awed and astonished them, and no one ventured to approach the palace. In the midst of the crowd, a scaffold was raised, covered with red cloth. An executioner and two of his assistants mounted it: they were followed by the person who was about to suffer, and who had his hands tied behind him. The crowd hissed and hooted him; but he ascended with a firm step, and turned to address the populace. What was the amazement of the Emperor and Empress on beholding his features, to recognize those of Napoleon!.... Josephine shrieked, and fainted, and, in a moment, the vision vanished. Both the Emperor and Empress concurred precisely in every particular in describing what they had seen, and each related to me the story separately. They were not asleep, and certainly you will not accuse Napoleon of want of firmness."

This anecdote naturally surprised us; and the serious and emphatic manner in which the Prince related it, prevented us from expressing any doubts of its reality. We took it as it was offered to us, and at its conclusion I said to the Prince: